Chapter 2
Fire was in the air as the dragon soared through the skies over Whiterun. With its bronze wings it dove down with extreme prejudice toads a farm house outside of the city. The house was instantly tuned into raging inferno with the owner running out of his home in flames. One by one, each and every house outside the city was systematically burned as if it was luring something out of the city. As it soared over the city one more time, it saw something. From up above it saw that it different from the grads and citizens that was running around Whiterun. With dragon's golden eyes it could tell that it was person and was running to the gate. The unknown person was wearing daedric armor that was blacker than night. That is when the dragon found its real target. It banked left and circled the city to a little way past the Whiterun stables. The stables were in flames, along with the horses that dwelled there. The air was thick with black smoke that billowed from the stables. The smell of burning flesh was overwhelming but was quickly dissipated by the gust of wind from wings of the dragon that hovered overhead. Below, stood the unknown person in the daedric armor and bravely wheeled a daedric war ax at the mighty beast.
"Joor Zah Frul!" From his voice came a thunderous thu'um that splintered and ached the dragon's very soul. It was experiencing what it was like to be mortal. It was too much for the dragon as it fell out of the sky with thump that shook the ground. It had landed feet first and was still feeling the effects of the thu'um. Even though the thu'um had not worn off, the dragon could still breathe fire at the mysterious man in daedric armor. Hate filled its heart and its jalls opened to let out a wall of fire that was hot as the sun. The man, with the power of the Voice, dove behind a large rock to shield himself from the fire and stayed there until it stopped. In his left hand, he had a spell ready. He released the energy and summand a dremora lord witch drew the dragon's attention away from the man. The dremora lord hastily charged at the dragon with his great sword while the man in the daedric armor sneaked around to neck near the shoulder of its wing. He then began to climb onto back of the dragon. It began to shake violently trying to knock the man of its back its neck, but to no prevail. The man in the daedric armor had to strong of a grip on one of the dragons horns. He began hacking violently at the dragons head with his war ax. Strike by strike, blood came splattering out like someone hit a barrel of tomatoes with a large hammer. Then the final strike landed deep within the dragon's brain leaving a final splat of blood on his helmet. The monstrous beast went deathly limp and slumped on to the ground. The man yanked his war ax out of the dragon's head and jumped on body. The body began to smolder and burn as the flesh started to disappear with a gust of wind. The wind wasn't ordinary; you could see it was coming out from the body itself with magnificent colors. The sight was like colored ribbons flying around in the air. It was the dragon's soul and was enveloping the unknown warrior as if he was drawing it in. As the colors began to fade and the wind began weaken, the warrior removed his helmet. He revealed himself to be an imperial with dirty blond hair and blue eyes. For an imperial to have blond hair and blue eyes is not a common trait. But in his face you could tell that he was a son of the heart land of the Empire.
He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it back out of his deep blue eyes. His hair was long and was braided on each side of his face. He had worked up a sweat and was tired. He turned to look at what was left of the dragon and smirked. With is helmet on one side of him he began to walk back to the city. But before he got more than a few steps as many as five Whiterun guards along with Commander Caius came running up to him and the skeleton of the dragon. Among the sound of aw and amazement, Commander Caius walked to the Imperil with a face of concern.
"Is it dead, Orland?" The Commander addressed the Imperil by his first name with a concerned look on his face. He knew this man very well indeed. Orland Flarugrius was his full and had a grin on his face. He placed his hand on the shoulder of the Commander. Then Orland pointed with his free hand to the mangled heap of bones.
"I pretty sure it is dead. So what is so important they sent you outside the city to get me, my friend?" Orland lowered his arm and asked in a friendly way as looked at the Commander once more. His grin began to fade as looked into the Commander's eyes. In his eye gave grave unspoken news that something happened, something very unseen and unexpended.
"Jarl Balgruuf and the gests need to have a word with you… We must make hast for it's safer inside the city wall. "Commander Caius told Orland in nervous tone and was eyeing the surrounding area with his eyes wide open.
"What's going on?" with a concerned look he asked.
"There is no time. Once we get to Dragonsreach everything will be explained" The Commander answered with frustrated tone. Orland shook his head in compliance and the commander gave a hand jester to the five guards. Then one at a time each guard assumed their position to protect the Imperial. The guard was station one on each side and one in front of him and one behind. There was also a guard walking backwards with a bow at the ready. The Commander walked infant of them all until they reached the city gate. They stopped and the Commander looked up at the two sentry towers on either side of the gate.
"Open the gate!" He ordered as it echoed through the rest of the men. On the other side the massive door was barricaded with lager plank of lumber. The barricade was moved by two men on each side of it and the door swung open. Once they were all inside the guards and the Commander seem to relax. The middle age commander looked over to the sun which was getting ready to set and give way to the night. Orland at this time was staring at him with extreme concern. Ideas of what might have happened raced through his mind as he looked at him. But before he could speak his mind, the Commander stopped looking at the setting sun wiped his forehead. He was sweating profusely out of shear anxiety. Beads of warm salty liquid rolling down on the yellow cloth that that raped around his chainmail armor that was typical of the guards of Whiterun. Orland, seeing that he was having trouble, pulled out a piece of cloth from in-between his armor. The cloth was dirty and dull for it was the same cloth he used to wipes the grime of battle of his armor and weapons. Orland handed the cloth over to the Commander. He looked at the cloth and then looked at Orland.
"Thank you... please, forgive me, we must be going now." He handed the cloth back to Orland and stared to walk to Dragonsreach. It was a long and quite walk to the cloud districted of Whiterun. No one talked the whole was to the Keep. The Commander and Orland walked up the giant door way to Dragonsreach and entered. The guards didn't fallow their job was over and a new one had begun. They had to make sure nobody else would enter, so they lined up shoulder to shoulder in front of the door way.
Inside, Jarl Balgruuf was not on his throne and his dunmer housecarel Irileth was not at her normal spot ether. Seeing this they both headed to the war room behind the main hall. When they entered in to the room Irileth was standing in the top of the stairs. She was guarding the room and gave a unwelcoming frown to Orland as they made their way in. Irileth did not like Orland very much even though he was a Thain of Whiterun. It was more of an air of dislike between the two, but it was one sided. Orland had no quarrel with her. The only reason he could come up with was that he was good friends with Jarl Balgruuf. Their friendship made her very uneasy and somewhat angered her.
As they walked to the table that had a large map of Skyrim, they saw that four people huddled around the table. They were pointing to towns and city, using hand gestures directed at one another. It was as if they were planning their next move. This strange mix of people consisted of Jarl Balgruuf, Legate Rikke, Legate Quentin Cipius and High Queen Elisif. All of they were talking to themselves until Jarl Bulgruuf noticed Orland. He looked up from the map hand silenced the rest of them.
"Orland it is good to see you my friend! Good work on that dragon by the way." The Jarl quickly left his spot around the table. As he made his way over to Orland the others followed. The celebrated hero of all of Skyrim, the Dragonborn, was very confused as the High Queen of Skyrim and the Right Hand of General Tullius walked over to him. Orland bowed his head and looked at the floor. Once again the ideas of what might have happened rushed through his head, but his trail of thoughts were interrupted by the High Queen.
"Orland it is good to see you. I hope you are doing well." Her voice was calm and soothing, which seemed to help the very tired and confused Dragonborn. Once his mind was clear, he was able to come up with a question and gave a bow.
"Your highness, I was not expecting you to be here. What brings you all the way from Solitude?" He came up from his bow and looked into High Queen Elisif's eyes. She blushed a little bit as he gave into her eyes. Elisif had grate fondness for him. He was also a Thain of Solitude, along with the rest of the holds of Skyrim. Orland had saved Solitude from numerous kinds of dangers in the past. Each time she saw him her heart pounded harder and harder.
"I… Ummm… Solitude…." She found herself unable to speak as she gazed into his dark blue eyes. Legate Rikke, seeing her Queen was having trouble stepped in.
"Solitude has been attacked by the Thalmor. General Tullius has been taken prisoner by the enemy. We also have heard that the Thalmor has been attacking cites although out the Empire, but we can't say for sure. This looked to be all out invasion. It seems with the death of our Emperor, the Thalmor found it a perfect time to strike." Orland was shocked by this information. He could barely make a sound and was in a state of disbelief. A man in Imperial infantry armor came walking up to him that was standing to the side near the wall and handed him a letter with The Imperial seal on it.
"My name is Malpen Hanotepelus. General Tullius gave this to me before we left Solitude." Orland took the letter form Malpen and began to read it.
Dear Legate Orland Flarugrius,
If you are reading this, I have been taken captive or I have died by enemy hands. In my stead I would wish you to lead are forces to victory. Therefore I pass the rank of General and the Governor General of Skyrim over to you. There is no other warrior better suited for this task than you. Skyrim has been my home for many years now. So I do not wish harm to come to this land nor do I wish the lands of the Empire to fall to the Thalmor. This will be the last order I give to you, save the Empire. Long like the Empire of Tamriel!
General Tullius
As he finished reading a prideful smile came to his face. Orland looked at the anxious crowd of people and spoke.
"Looks like I have some work to do."
